The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1887-01-13
SECRET SORROWS.

! WHO Heeu sympathy mOSC, JneSe are
not the ones who mourn as those
without hope. The real sufferers are
those of us who wrestle all the night
long with our griefs like Jacob did
with the graphing angel, and who
hide them away behind smile when
| daylight comes, as dove folds it's
wings to conceal the arrow that has
pierced its vitals. The finest acting
in the world is never seen on the
stage. TIE real tragedians and
dralnatists 90 in and out of the marts
of trade and the meeting places of
society. They are men and women
who talk and laugh and live like
other people, while deep down in
their bosom tragedy goes on with
no audience but the eye OF Coda
tragedy in which the fanged worms
of an irremediable grief are gnawing
and swallowing the core of human
! heart. Some times when we hear
ripples OF tiEkling laughter, how lit
| tie We suspect that instead of bub-
bling up, it is pumped up from the
hollow depths of soul that has
shaken hands with happiness, and
bid hope an everlasting farewell.
/ Sometimes when we are tickled with
the sound OF the merriest songs how
little We dream that the heart of the
singer is breaking. If every heart
that breaks could he heard as noise,
the din of the explosions would make
i the world an uninhabitable pande-
monium; and if all the hot tears that
fall unseen upon pillows in the silent
watches of the night, could be turn
ed into one rivers channel they
would desolate the land with flood.
After all, it is strange that man ever
laughs. Every step he takes is to-
ward his own grave. Man is a crea-
ture that comes to US labeled from
the indefinite past to the indefinite
future" Time, the b-builder, is
his only friend, since he unlocks the
only gate through which man may
flee from his bounding troubles
Life opens like morning in May,
but its close is brown and murky
autumn, filled with biting winds and
barren trees, and across the gloom of
its shaded scenery, all silently they
pass before us, faces we shall see no
more. Life is battle at best. In
marching through it we have to face
tempest oftener than we find flowers.
Those who die young are wrongly
reckoned unfortunate. They only
reach home ahead Of us, and get in
sooner out Of the storm.
Nobody but an inspired writer
could ever have said, each heart
knoweth its own bitterness" That
/ one little sentence stands in the
place Of the ten thousand vol
umes it would require to describe
the degrees and kinds of bitterness
Of a repentance that came too late !;
it may be the bitterness that finally
crystalyizes over the soft but rayless
sadness of an unrequitted love; it
may be the bitterness that hangs
about the haunting memory of a near
one and dear one, whom we crush
ed with GOODNESS, and learned too
late that ''we never prize the music
till the sweet voiced bird has flown
But whatever the specific cause may
be, the bitterness is there, only to go
out with the candle of life. God
help the people who have secret
sorrow. The world can't do it,
But even the bearers of bitterness
in the heart, even the victims of Sc
cret sorrow, may have one dream of
sweetness that will come to pass by
and by. Some day under the sound
of a song that no man can sing, and
in the presence Of multitude that
no man can number, and in front Of
a throne that stands in the midst of a
sea of glass, the angels will unbuckle
every burden from the chafed and
bending shoulders of those who have
accepted the invitation, "Come unto
Me-" and who have found the Prom
User of II will give you rest" Then
the repentance that came too late
will be turned into the repentance
that needeth not to be repented of, "
the bitterness that hangs about the
memory of those we wronged and
crushed will be blotted out by their
presence and forgiveness; those upon
whom our love was wasted here may
love us there with love that is UNI
defled by flesh. Secret sorrows may
gnaw, but they cannot annihilate.
And they will be cast out like I'M
clean spirits when we stand in the
presence of Him whose shadow is
brighter than localized suns, and Of
whom the prophet said, ale shall
wipe away all tears from their eyes.
Columbus Enquirer.
i, Over 100000 immigrants came to
this country last year, but compare
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